Y is for Yagi Uda
by Jelsemium
Summary: A man, a plan, a recalcitrant roof antenna known as the Yagi Uda. AN: This was originally for the Summer 2006 Alphabet Challenge for Numb3rs dot Org.


Y is for Yagi Uda

Author's Warning: Alan Whumpage, and it's all AmyD's fault, because she kept tickling me when I was writing this!

Author's Dedication: To Auntie Amy, of course.

Author's Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't own the house. It's all Amy's fault.

o.0

Alan Eppes considered himself to be an intelligent man. Moreover, he always prided himself on being a down-to-Earth, pragmatic sort of guy.

But he still suffered from the insidious malady known as a 'Y' chromosome.

It didn't help that Don had chosen not to come home that weekend. If his son had been there, he might have decided that he needed to set a good example.

On the other hand, considering the weather, it was just as well that Don had stayed at school.

It had been raining buckets and the freeways were slick and treacherous. Not to mention that California drivers went nuts in anything resembling weather.

The wind wasn't helping the situation. Trees were being uprooted. Trash cans were being hurtled about with manic glee. And Alan heard a nasty clatter earlier on the roof.

He speculated uneasily about what could have hit the roof and if it had caused any damage. He wasn't looking forward to patching or re-shingling.

He almost regretted letting Don live at the dorms. He definitely regretted letting Charlie (and Margaret) go off to Princeton, no matter how attractive the scholarship had been. He hated living alone.

Alan scowled at the inert television as if it had been responsible for the latest argument between him and Margaret.

He had wanted her to come home for the Thanksgiving holidays. She had refused.

Alan sighed. No, "refused" sounded harsh. Margaret had reluctantly vetoed the idea.

Alan felt sulky, even though he knew it was expensive to fly out for the Thanksgiving holidays.

He also knew that he was miserably lonely and likely to do something stupid if he didn't see his wife soon.

He snorted at himself. This was getting him nowhere. He clicked the remote at the television and got a lot of snow. He channel surfed for a few minutes before he gave up and admitted that the problem wasn't the station.

Margaret had keep talking about getting cable. Alan maintained that cable was an unnecessary expense. Why should he pay for something that they got for free?

Besides, an inconvenience like the antenna being blown over by the wind was easily fixed. Alan was good with his hands. It should only take a few minutes.

Alan walked outside to check and decided that the easiest way to get to the antenna was to go out a second story window and prop a ladder on the first story roof. That way minimized the amount of time he would be exposed to the elements.

He would wait until a break in the storm before he attempted it, though. No need to be stupid about this.

Alan stood back and surveyed his accomplishment with pride. The antenna was firmly in place and he didn't have to pay some repairman to come out. Then he carefully stepped back onto the ladder.

It skidded out from underneath him.

He had a moment to decide that this "down to earth" business was for the birds.

Alan fell, hit the roof hard and started tumbling. He clutched wildly at the shingles, but only managed to skin his hands.

He plunged over the edge and clutched at the rain gutter. That halted his momentum long enough to do something exceedingly nasty to his shoulder.

Then his wife's favorite azalea gave up its life to cushion his fall.

Winded, Alan wondered vaguely how he was going to explain this to Margaret.

When the rain started picking up force again, he staggered to the feet and into the house for his car keys. He didn't think anything was broken, but his shoulder hurt like hell and it had to be at least sprained.

Looked like Don was going to need to get a new batting practice partner. Maybe he'd buy a pitching machine for Don, or at least a membership at someplace with batting cages.

As he wended his way carefully to the emergency room, he went over various options and finally decided that silence was golden.

Margaret and Charlie wouldn't be home until Christmas. Donnie probably wouldn't be by until Thanksgiving. He had plenty of time to heal up and to repair all the damages.

Margaret wouldn't even see the insurance bill with this on it. Alan was going to pay cash.

He was determined that this would be one little misadventure that nobody but Alan and the emergency ward doctor would ever know about.


End file.
